A/N: Thanks to all you wonderful people (especially the anons since I can't thank you guys personally) who commented on the last chapter. You totally made my weekend with your lovely comments.

Also, I am an idiot. I forgot to thank my wonderful, incredible beta, HaleyKim. I wrote this story as a gift for her birthday and she's such a great beta that even though this was a gift for her, she still went ahead and betad it for me. I seriously don't know where I'd be without her. So, Kim, thank you. :)

oOo

As he traipsed to his locker after biology, Dick couldn't help but feel relieved that it was finally Friday. It had been a long week.

Usually he was okay with school, sometimes he even kind of liked it, but right now he was so exhausted that he was barely functioning. Courtesy of his broken arm, he'd hardly slept since the team's mission last weekend. Bruce hadn't been exaggerating when he said the break was severe; even with painkillers, it ached horribly. And the enormous, heavy cast running from the middle of his forearm almost to his shoulder didn't help.

Pain flared suddenly when someone knocked into him, and Dick heard a muttered apology before the person was gone.

Wincing, he bit back a snarky retort. That was another reason this whole week had felt so never-ending. As one of the shortest people in the whole freaking school people couldn't always see him in the crush between classes. Normally his reflexes helped him to avoid the clumsy and less observant students, but the stupid cast was throwing his balance off which meant he'd been smacked into more times than he cared to count over the last few days.

Reaching his locker, Dick sighed. Thank God there were only three more classes to go.

He was awkwardly juggling his books and twirling the dial on his locker when he heard Artemis' voice from somewhere in the hall, and nearly smashed himself in the face pulling his locker door open so he could duck his head inside.

He was totally gonna have words with Bruce about this later. What had possessed him to offer Artemis a scholarship to Gotham Academy? Okay, so maybe Dick had enjoyed trolling her at first, but that had rapidly lost its appeal once he'd realized that he was going to have to spend the next few weeks carefully avoiding her so that she wouldn't see Dick Grayson with the same injury as Robin. Because Artemis was too smart not to put two and two together. And as much as Dick liked her, he wasn't sure if he trusted her with his secret identity yet.

"Hey, Grayson!" a loud voice yelled.

Dick looked up and groaned inwardly. Just his luck. Ryan Johnson, one of the last people he wanted to see.

Ryan was a senior and the epitome of the bullying jock archetype. The moron thrived on weaknesses he could exploit. Of course, they had to be really obvious weaknesses because he was too dumb to see anything more implicit. But he was still smart enough to stay off the teachers' radar by picking on a different victim every week. And this week, he had declared open season on Dick.

"Didn't you hear me, Grayson?" Ryan demanded, materializing at his side and shoving him against the row of lockers.

"I heard you," said Dick, rubbing his arm while he glowered at Ryan.

"Then you should've answered me. It's rude not to answer someone when they talk to you."

"Whatever." Dick turned away and began pulling the books he would need for his next class out of his locker.

Ryan smacked the books, knocking them to the floor. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not talking to you," Dick retorted. Ryan didn't scare him. It was hard to be scared of a high school bully who was little more than a walking cliché after facing off against psychopaths like the Joker.

Didn't mean said bully couldn't be annoying as hell though.

Ryan's face darkened and he punched the locker beside Dick's head. Dick merely raised an eyebrow in response. He knew part of the reason he irked Ryan so much was because he wasn't scared of him. Ryan had expected someone of Dick's size to be terrified of him, and when Dick had subverted those expectations, the idiot had scrambled frantically to reassert what he believed should be the status quo. It would have been funny if Ryan weren't so irritating.

"Time to adjust the attitude, Grayson, before I do it for you."

"Is that supposed to be intimidating?" Dick rolled his eyes. "Seriously, dude, B-movies have better lines than you."

Behind Ryan, his gang of all-brawn-and-no-brain friends sniggered, causing the older teenager to flush. Eyes narrowing in anger, he grabbed Dick's shirt. "You think you're something special just because Bruce Wayne adopted you? Well, you're not. We all know why he adopted you."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" demanded Dick, tugging his shirt out of Ryan's hands while trying not to wince; the older boy had yanked his sling and it freaking hurt.

"It means that Wayne only wanted someone to warm his bed for him. Tell me, Grayson, is he really the stud that everyone says he is?"

Dick froze, unable to believe what Ryan had just suggested to him.

"Looks like I hit a nerve," Ryan sneered, a pleased grin unfurling across his face. "What's the matter, Grayson? Don't like talking about your boyfriend?"

"SHUT UP!" Dick yelled, shoving Ryan with his good arm.

"Oooooh, looks like I've really hit a nerve."

Dick clenched his good hand and tried to get a grip on himself. Getting angry would only give Ryan more ammunition, and he should know better than to let himself be goaded. Bruce had taught him better than that. "You know what, Ryan? You're not worth it."

With considerable effort, Dick turned away and squatted down to pick up his books, trying to swallow the bile in his throat. His hands were shaking with rage, the vibrations making his arm ache. He was normally pretty good at ignoring jerks like Ryan, but it was so much harder when the taunts were about Bruce. Aside from everything he did for the city as Batman, his charitable donations as Bruce Wayne made Gotham an infinitely better place. This city owed him owed him everything. Dick owed him everything.

He sensed Ryan stepping closer. "Not gonna talk about your boyfriend? That's okay, maybe you'll talk about this."

Dick looked up just in time to see the older boy swipe something from his locker, and then smirk at him. "Wow, Grayson, you were even uglier as a kid!"

Dick's mouth went dry. It was a picture of him and his parents, the last picture taken of them together.

"You give that back!" he demanded, scrambling to his feet as quickly as he could with the cumbersome cast and snatching at the picture.

Ryan held the photograph high in the air. "Now, why would I do that?"

"Because it's mine! Give it back!" Dick snatched at it again. God, he hated Ryan so much…

"I don't think so. In fact, I think this picture would look better with a few edits." Ryan backed up and raised his other hand, putting a small tear in one corner of the photograph.

Dick's heart sped up in horrified palpitations and he jumped, trying to grab the picture from the much taller teenager.

Ryan laughed, looking utterly delighted to have finally gotten under Dick's skin. "You want it?" he taunted, waving the picture high over Dick's head. "What'll you give me for it?"

"Give it back, you jerk!" cried Dick, jumping for the photograph. He could see his mother's face smiling down at him.

"Not if you don't ask nicely."

"Fine. Please can I have it back?"

"That didn't sound very nice. You sounded a little angry, Grayson. Try again."

Dick was dangerously close to hitting him. "Give. It. Back."

Ryan tutted. "That was even worse. I don't think you want this picture at all." Taking several more steps back, Ryan reached up and tore another corner of the photograph.

Feeling a little panicked because that photo was one of his most valued and irreplaceable possessions, Dick threw himself at the older boy and yanked on his arm. "Give it back, Ryan, or I swear you'll be sorry!"

"Now, now, Grayson," Ryan mock-scolded, while his friends pulled Dick away. "You know what school policy is on violence."

Dick glared at him.

By now, the hallway had cleared out, save for Ryan's moron friends and a few stragglers who had stayed behind to watch him torment Dick. They were late for class and Dick hoped that meant a teacher would come looking for them before Ryan damaged the photograph even more.

The older boy's mouth split into a malicious grin. "You know what? Since you don't really care, I think I'll just get rid of this."

Ryan reached up and Dick just knew he was going to tear the picture in two. Something in him snapped and he charged at Ryan. Using the older boy's leg like a springboard, he jumped and snatched at the photograph with his good hand. His fingers closed around the paper and he jerked it out of Ryan's grasp.

"Get off me, you freak!" he heard Ryan's surprised yell, before the older boy shoved him hard, knocking him backwards in midair.

Too late, Dick realized that Ryan had been standing at the top of the corridor steps. He tried to twist to lessen the impact of his fall, but the heavy cast was throwing his balance off and he smashed, cast first, into the tiled steps where he heard something crack, followed immediately by an explosion of light as his head collided with the hard edge of the steps.

Dick could do little more than register someone's scream before his world went black.

oOo

Artemis was relieved when the bell sounded to signal the end of English. They were studying Emily Dickenson and poetry was most definitely not her forte. It didn't help that Mr. Brown was possibly the most boring human in existence: the guy made knitting look interesting.

Grabbing her books, Artemis hurried for the door. Two classes left and she was out of here!

Out in the hall, she was surprised to find a wall of students blocking her way to the stairs. "What's going on?" she asked the nearest student.

"Someone pushed Dick Grayson down the stairs," he replied, not even looking at her because he was too busy staring over the heads of the students in front of them. "They had to call an ambulance."

Artemis arched an eyebrow. Who the hell was dumb enough to pick on Dick Grayson? His dad was Bruce Wayne!

Spotting Bette Kane in the throng of bodies, Artemis pushed past several students, ignoring their protests, to reach her friend. "Hey," she greeted, squeezing in beside her.

The other girl's head swivelled around. "Artemis, isn't it awful?"

Bette looked genuinely upset and Artemis was surprised: as far as she knew, Dick and Bette weren't friends. Craning her head for a better look, Artemis sucked in a breath when she spotted the reason why Bette was so upset.

Dick Grayson was sprawled in a tangled heap across the corridor steps. The boy was clearly unconscious and bleeding from a head wound, blood trickling down the tiled steps. Two paramedics were squatting on either side of him, carefully sliding an immobilization board beneath him. It was a horrible scene and Artemis swallowed. Another student had done this?

At the bottom of the steps stood the vice principal, Mr. Wilson, watching anxiously. Artemis could see the nervous twitch of his fingers and guessed he was worried about the repercussions for the school, especially considering who Dick's father was. Beside the teacher stood a tall senior whom Artemis was pretty sure was called Ryan something or other. His expression was ashen and she wondered if he'd had something to do with Dick's fall. She'd seen him teasing the younger boy before.

The paramedics finished securing Dick to the immobilization board and positioned themselves at his head and feet. Whispered murmurs ran through the crowd as the men carefully lifted the board and carried Dick down the steps to where a gurney had been left. Placing him on it, one of the men proceeded to strap him down while the other gathered up their medical equipment.

A hush descended when the paramedics started to wheel Dick out, and the gathered students parted silently to let them through. As the men passed, Artemis got a clear view of Dick and was startled to see that he was wearing a cast. He hadn't had that last Friday when he'd been stalking her coming out of the bathrooms.

Artemis felt the breath catch in her throat. It wasn't a typical cast; it ran from the middle of his forearm almost to his shoulder, and it looked exactly like the cast Robin had been wearing when he'd left the cave last Sunday. Same arm too.

She stared, open-mouthed, after the gurney. Was it possible…could Dick Grayson…?

Artemis gave a quick snort and shook her head. Of course not. That was crazy thinking. Dick Grayson couldn't possibly be the Boy Wonder.

Could he?

oOo

"Janey, Dr. Staunton needs you." One of the nurses poked her head into the residents' lounge at Gotham General, where Jane Lewis was literally taking her first sip of coffee after hours on her feet in the ER.

She sighed as she placed her mug back on the table. "Can't it wait, Sue?"

"Sorry, Janey, but everyone else is still tied up with the last of the I-95 crash, and an ambulance has just brought in some kid from Gotham Academy. He's unconscious and it looks bad."

Jane got wearily to her feet. "I'm coming."

"Thanks, Janey. He's in trauma four. I've gotta go; I need to finish with the guy in exam six."

Her colleague disappeared and Jane headed for the trauma rooms. Seven hours into a double shift and she was ready for a stiff drink and a hot bath. It was one of those days when she wondered why she'd ever become a doctor.

She entered the trauma room and found the new resident, Ken Staunton, and several nurses working on a boy who looked a little small to be a high school student. He was bleeding from a head wound while a heavy cast adorned his left arm. Jane could see that the cast had been smashed in three places and raised an eyebrow. It must have been some fall to damage a cast like that.

"What have we got?" she asked, pulling on a pair of gloves before moving over to the bed.

"Kid fell down some stairs and landed on his head," Ken replied, not looking up. "BP is one-eighty over one-ten, pulse rate thirty and LOC has been almost fifty minutes. Paramedics said he hasn't responded to any stimuli."

Jane quickly got to work, peeling back the boy's eyelids and shining a light into them. "Pupils are non-reactive, possible ICP. Set him up for a rapid infusion of mannitol with five percent albumin. And someone find a cast saw to get that off him," she added, spotting blood where splinters from the shattered cast were cutting into the boy's skin. The cast was beyond repair and that arm looked like it was swelling.

"I'll get one," a nurse Jane didn't recognize offered, and began rummaging in the room's storage cabinets.

Jane glanced at Deb, the head nurse, who was busy setting up the IV she had requested. "What concentration of oxygen is he on?"

"Thirty percent."

"Increase it to forty-five. Let's try and minimize any damage."

The nurse nodded just as a sudden whine rolled out of the boy's mouth. Jane turned back to him and spoke softly. "Hey, it's okay, relax. You're in the hospital. My name is Dr. Lewis. Can you tell me your name?"

He made no response.

"Do we know his name?" Jane asked, as the nurse who had gone in search of a cast saw returned with one.

The nurse consulted the paramedic's notes while Ken took the saw and started to remove the boy's cast. "Richard Grayson," the nurse called over the noise of the blade.

Richard Grayson. Why was that name so familiar? "Richard," Jane addressed the boy again, "can you hear me?"

Richard gave a low groan.

"Can you open your eyes for me, Richard?" There was no response and Jane tried again. "Richard, if you can hear me, I need you to open your eyes."

"Why don't you try calling him Dick?" a voice spoke up suddenly. "He prefers to be called Dick."

Jane looked to where a squat, nervous man was standing in the corner of the room. "Are you his father?"

The man shook his head. "I'm Dale Wilson, the vice principal at Gotham Academy. I came with Dick in the ambulance. Is he going to be alright?"

"We won't know anything until we have a better understanding of that head injury," she said, returning her attention to the boy. "Rich– Dick. I know you might be feeling confused or in pain right now, but this is important. Can you let me know if you understand what I'm saying to you?"

Dick remained silent and she frowned in concern. He'd been somewhat responsive a moment ago. She shone her light in his eyes again. The right pupil responded sluggishly while the left remained dilated and non-reactive. They needed to get him up to X-ray; there was little they could do without knowing what they were dealing with.

"Get him prepped for an immediate head and neck CT," she ordered. "Call X-ray and tell them he's on the way."

"You're doing a CAT scan?" Dale Wilson demanded. "Why? What's wrong?"

"We don't know. That's why we're doing the scan," she explained patiently.

"But he will be alright, won't he?" the man asked, anxiously tugging at his tie. "Oh dear, Mr. Wayne is going to be furious."

The name clicked in Jane's memory banks. Now she knew why the name Richard Grayson was so familiar – Bruce Wayne! She groaned inwardly. Their every move would be scrutinized by all of Gotham if anything happened to the boy.

She caught Ken's eye and he shook his head. She knew he'd made the connection and come to the same conclusion that she had, and he looked equally as thrilled by it.

Jane sighed and moved to help Ken in removing the cast he had just finished cutting. The boy's arm was definitely swelling beneath the cast, which crumbled in places as they pulled it open. Despite the blood running from where sections of the broken fibreglass had cut into the flesh, Jane's gaze went immediately to the enormous stretch of dark bruising on Dick's upper arm. Clearly visible, even through stitches, was a handprint.

Her eyes came up to meet Ken's startled expression. "Mr. Wilson," Jane addressed the vice principal carefully, "did Dick say how he broke his arm?"

"He said he fell while on a camping trip with his guardian last weekend. Why? Is it relevant?"

"Probably not, but it might be helpful to have all the information for treatment. In fact," Jane added, catching sight of Deb's expression as she too noticed the bruising, "why don't you go with Deb here and tell her everything you know about Dick's accident today?"

"Yes, of course," Mr. Wilson agreed. "Anything to help."

The two of them left the room and Ken immediately snorted. "Fall. Yeah, right!"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Jane cautioned.

"Jump to conclusions! Janey, how hard do you think someone must have grabbed him to leave their entire handprint as one giant bruise? Hard enough to break his arm maybe?"

"Ken, we need more evidence before we go accusing anyone of abuse," Jane reminded him, trying to subvert her own suspicions. They needed to remain clearheaded and impartial because this was Bruce frigging Wayne they could potentially be accusing of child abuse!

"You want more evidence?" said Ken, studying the boy's arm with narrowed eyes. "Look at that scarring on the inside of his arm."

Jane followed his gaze and gave a quick intake of breath to see several small, circular marks there. They were obviously old scars, but they looked suspiciously like cigarette burns – something that definitely didn't belong on the arm of a child.

Oh. Fucking. Crap.

Jane bit her lip, debating what to do. As doctors, they had a duty to report if they suspected child abuse. But Bruce Wayne was Gotham's most powerful citizen; if he really was abusing this boy then they needed irrefutable proof so that he wouldn't be able to circumvent the charges.

"Okay, get him up to X-ray for the head and neck CT," she decided finally. "Schedule him in for a radionuclide bone scan and a skeletal survey to check for old fractures as well. And no one here is to say anything about this to anyone, understand? I don't want a media free-for-all setting up outside this ER."

They all nodded.

"Ken, would you go with him to X-ray?" she asked. She knew they couldn't really spare a doctor from the ER, but she had to make sure the boy came back here when radiology were done. The quieter they kept this, the better it would be.

"Of course. But what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to talk to Eddie, let him make the decision." Jane was the ER Attending and she had dealt with cases of abuse before, but this was unchartered waters – a potential shitstorm of political and social repercussions waiting to happen. Far better to let the Chief of Emergency Medicine get out of the frying pan and into the fire for this one.

Because Jane's ass was far more flammable.